Friday, August 17, 2007

El Banco

By my second full day in Colombia it was time to open a checking account. I had exchanged $100 in cash the previous day for 180.000 Colombian pesos. (Note: Colombians use a period where Americans would use a comma for money - so 1,000 pesos would be seen in a store as $1.000. But I´ll use a comma in order to make it clearer.) I exchanged it with Luis Carlos´s son because he gave me more than the bank would have. The previous day we had looked at the exchange rate, which was 1,750 Colombian pesos to the dollar. I saw on television that the U.S. dollar had risen. I think this was part of the reason I had such a favorable exchange rate at the bank. But the difference didn´t seem possible. It was now 2,017.60 for a dollar. Maybe it was because I had traveler´s checks. Although I doubt it. I´m still not sure. No one spoke English. I had to rely on Luis Carlos and what little I could decifer. The bank I went to was called Bancolombia, the most popular one in the country, and recommended by Luis Carlos. Because I didn´t have a credit card or job certificate or proof of Colombian residency, I could not open a checking account. At least this is what Luis Carlos had told me after talking with a woman in charge. The girl who exchanged my money was smiling at me. Luis Carlos said that she is a beautiful girl for me. So I told her she should come to our place for a party that night. She never stopped by, but she did hand me a stack of $1,614,080 pesos ($800) in demonations of 20,000 and 50,000. I told Luis Carlos that he had to be my bodyguard on the way out. But this was Chia; there was very little crime.

About Me

Through my love for travel and curiosity about interesting people and places, my dream in college of being the world's best sportswriter has changed. I grew up in Danbury, Conn., playing many sports. School was always second. In college I developed the love for reading and the confidence to write well. Since graduation I have driven across the U.S. I lived in Aspen for a year, where I carved tracks in fresh powder and wrote a book about a very inspirational man, “The Monk,” and then lived for almost four years in Chicago and a year in Bogotá. During this time I became a self-taught photojournalist. I am now living in Astoria, N.Y., where I am working on several independent projects that I'll explain when the time is right. Until then, thank you for visiting my blog. I welcome any feedback or comments.